


surely

by TheLittleTrashCat



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, Anxious Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Brotherly Love, Caring Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hugs, Insecure Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Insecurity, Insomnia, Mental Link, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Good Friend, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Sweetheart, Platonic Cuddling, Poor Roman, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Stream of Consciousness, Swearing, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Touch-Starved, anxious anxiety lmao, he just wants a hug guys, i love this fandom, i think idk, im so sorry my poor boi, ish, jumped out of nowhere at me, mild remus angst but not really, now with a new and improved summary, roman and remus have potty mouths, this story is writing itself at this point lmao, what a tag, wow look at all these new tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2020-10-20 09:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20672822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleTrashCat/pseuds/TheLittleTrashCat
Summary: Roman keeps a lot to himself. More than he, or anyone ever should.It's up to the other's to notice what's going on, and it's up to them end his misery and help him get on the road to recovery.





	1. why would a star, a star ever be afraid of the dark?

**Author's Note:**

> >:3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Editied: 7/10/20**
> 
> chapter title from Scared of the Dark

Roman _ hated _ the dark. It wasn't very _ Princely _ of him to be scared of something has pathetic as the _ dark, _ and he hated that fact about himself. If he could change, he would. He couldn't be a _hero _if he was scared of the same thing as _children. _He was an adult, he should past that, and yet he wasn't.

Roman valued people's opinions far too much, which made his fear all the more worse. After all, who _wouldn't _laugh at a grown adult who was scared of the dark. All he wanted in life was to be validated by other people, to be told he was doing a good job, he was trying his best, couldn't _ someone _be proud of him? Roman had learned a long time ago that no, no one would be proud of him. He could never make the right people proud of him, and that hurt more than any injury he could possibly aquire.

When Roman thought about it, late into the night when the silence surrounded him, the dark encompassed a lot of things. The unknown, the ability to be scared, imagination run too far, the fear of isolation creeping in and loneliness becoming unbearable. Despite how he may act, Roman was _ not _as that brave as he made himself out to be, a fact that made itself clear when the sun dipped low and the lights were switched off one, by one, by one. Roman spent went on quests in the Imagination for the people of his kingdom, did his best to make his people proud of him, but really, he was just feeding his own ego. He faced horrors in deep caves and thick forests for his people, because he thought that if he subjected himself to fear enough, it wouldn't bother him and he could be the brave confidant Prince that he always pretended to be, could finally be worth something.

All his attempts thus far had done for him was give him nightmares, the things he put himself through in vain hope of success rearing back up to haunt him deep into the night. He already had trouble sleeping, his mind constantly tossing and turning along with his body, thoughts and worries plaguing his being. His sleep schedule was so messed up from all nighters and sleepless nights that there was nothing he could do to fix it. He needed to be working, coming up with ideas.

Roman spent most of his days working, trying to come up with an idea that would be _ good enough _for the other sides. He was constantly trying to do what was expected of him, trembling on tiptoes with arm muscles straining as he desperately reached for a bar that was set too high. He could never reach that bar, though, and every time he felt like he was close it moved up again, a new request, a new need, a new obstacle in his way. He could never give them what they wanted, especially Logan. The man had the highest standards to live up to, was the most vocal with his disappointment and frustration bout the quality of Romans work, always ready with sharp and stern words, a knife cutting into him with every syllable out of his mouth. Roman tried every day, day after day to meet the standards they had set for him, because he couldn't let them down. He wanted to give them what they wanted, and as much as it shamed him to admit it, he wanted to_ impress _ Logan. He wanted Logan to be proud of him, even if was just a flicker in his eyes for a moment, wanted to hear the soft, stuttered and adorably awkward praise that he gave to the other sides directed at _him._

So far, that seemed impossible. All the emotion Logan gave him was thinly veiled venom and anger in his words and quite sighs of frustration, curt and stilted conversations, a irritated eye roll if he was lucky. They argued about the simplest and stupidest of things, a clashing of options, and Roman could never let go of his _damn pride _and admit when he was wrong. He felt like he needed to prove he was right about something, that he could bring good things to to the table. And it was Roman's fault, he kept desperately holding on to to his fragile pride and ego and lashing out at anything that threatened to break him entirely. 

It wasn't liked Roman _enjoyed _arguing with Logan. He didn't want to, would do almost anything if he could swallow his pride and have a normal, civil conversation. He wanted to be friends with Logan more than anything. He saw how Logan felt ignored and alone and Roman knew what that was like, he wanted to help him, wanted to bring a smile to his face. Wanted to show him the stars in the Imagination, wanted him to feel more comfortable sharing facts he had learned, wanted him to not fear showing the excitement in his his eyes. Roman hated to think it, but he knew he had a crush on Logan. He wanted to know him better, wanted him to feel happy and secure, wanted to stop him form treading down the same path Roman had before it was too late.

But they argued, and they argued, and they argued, and why would Logan ever like him in the same way? Why would he ever possibly fall for someone who he wasn't even on good terms with? He wouldn't, and that made seeing him even worse. Every time Roman saw Logan, he was reminded that the side could never and would never like him the same way.

Roman spent his life craving attention and praise, and acting like an over dramatic asshole when he didn't. He fought with the people he cared about and lashed out at them because he was a self absorbed _idiot. _Virgil probably wasn't over how Roman used to treat him, probably still cried himself to sleep over hateful words and barely hidden insults. Roman _himself_ wasn't over how he used to treat Virgil. The guilt of it was one of the many things that plagued him every day, regret making it hard to speak sometimes, words he didn't mean slipping out of his mouth from a sick old habit.. He didn't outright apologize because he thought that if he did Virgil would probably-

...He didn't know what Virgil would do, but it would be bad. If he reminded him of the past, who knows what that would do to him? Maybe it bring back painful memories, and that was the _last _thing he wanted to do. Roman didn't want to ruin the somewhat shaky friendship they had made.

He didn't want to ruin his relationship with _any _of the sides. So he kept his problems to himself, spoke lies of mission, and they slipped so easily off his tongue. He was always ready with an excuse for any change in behavior, always poised to defend his actions. He lied, because he couldn't let them see how broken he was. How insecure and self-conscious he really was. He knew he was annoying, loud, obnoxious and hard to deal with, but if he showed how he _ actually _was to the other sides they would be mad at him for keeping that part of him hidden, upset at all of the lies, and they would lash out, cast him out to the dark side, reject him from ever being apart of the fam-ILLY, and he would let them down, and disappointing others was not something Roman handled well.

He _ hated _ conflict. He didn't know how to handle it outside of a quickly growing temper and shouting words. Roman's anger was quick to escalate and slow to cool if he wasn't left alone. He felt an absurd need to be the winner, which conflicted with the need to cry that always arose when someone yelled at him.

Roman could also admit to himself that he was touch-starved. It was something that he couldn't remember when it had started, and he could ignore it for the most part, but some nights it was almost unbearable. He craved a simple pat on the back, or a brushing of arms. He wanted to hug and cuddle but the other sides so clearly _didn't. _Both Logan and Virgil seemed to dislike being touched (Deceit as well, but it wasn't like that even mattered), and Roman respected their boundaries. So what if he was left with tear silently spilling onto his cheeks because he couldn't get what he wanted? He couldn't just disrespect them and act like their request meant nothing to him.

Patton was Roman's only real hope for physical affection, but even then, Patton was more focused on making sure that _ Virgil _was okay, spending more time with him and making sure he felt comfortable with his position with them, and when Logan finally admitted that he had emotions, Patton spent time with him, and soon, Roman's only constant source of physical affection was...gone.

Not that other sides didn't deserve it, they deserved it more than _ he _ did, but it would be nice to just get a simple _ hug _every once in a while. But Roman didn't think he deserved it, he was complaining about nothing. So what if he was touch starved? It didn't prevent him form doing work. Didn't stop him from contributing to the team. Even then, the ideas he brought weren't _ good enough. _All his ideas were shot down, because they were too expensive, unrealistic, too close to something they had done before, too over the top and extra. Logan never liked his ideas., would spend so much time picking each and every one of them apart. He always wound up using one of the others ideas, it felt like, and coming up with ideas was Roman's _job, _and if he couldn't even do _that _right, if he couldn't do his entire purpose, then what was he worth? Roman could see it in their eyes when he failed them again and again, they were _ disappointed._ That was something he couldn't stand, so some nights, Roman forgo sleep and tried to come up with ideas, a list, but sometimes even if he spent instead _days_ whiling away at ideas, they _ just weren't good enough. _

He tried his best, and he just wanted and _ ounce _of affection, and yet he never got it, because he put on an _ act _to make the other's think he was okay. Roman was an actor, he was great at acting, it was one of the few things he could do correctly, and they never saw through it. They never thought to look through the fake smile and the extra-ness. They just saw Roman being himself. His usual, annoying, selfish self. They never thought that he might have issues. He was taken for granted.

In some cases, especially now, he felt like he was worse than Virgil. And if Roman was, really, _ really, _ completely truly honest with himself, he needed to talk to _ someone _ about this, but he just _ couldn't _bring himself to burden the others with his issues.

So...he didn't. He kept all his problems to himself, and he didn't let his sadness show, because if he did….

They would surely hate him.


	2. where'd you find this guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not the final chapter as things have decided to take a wild turn, so who knows how long this thing will end up being 
> 
> also i deeply apologize for how many times i used notice/noticed/noticing in this chapter. it bothers me too.
> 
> chapter title from Moral Of The Story by Ashe

Logan noticed things.

Obviously, everyone notices things, it would be weird if he _ didn't _notice things, considering you notice things with your eyes and everyone has eyes- well, most of everyone had eyes and could use those to see but some people couldn't and- well, he was rambling. That's not the point.

Logan, was very, very, observant. He wasn't the _ best _in social situations, but he knew how to read people - for the most part.

And, well, despite how much he denied it- or, well, _ used _to deny considering he'd been better recently, he did indeed have emotions. And, well…he still, after all this time, didn't like show his emotions and still often didn't, but that wasn't the point.

The _ point _was that he noticed more things than the average person.

Things that he noticed, and had been mulling over for a long while were- well...things that had to do with Roman.

He was a people pleaser. That was one of the first things Logan had noticed about him, actually. It wasn't too hard to tell, all of his fellow Sides seemed to want people to like them (excluding Remus and maybe Deceit, but he wasn't around them enough to tell).

And, despite how Roman may talk, and talk, and talk, about whatever he was obsessing with at the moment he...didn't seem to enjoy it?

When Logan said he was good at reading people, he didn't say he was perfect.

But, he thought that Roman's behavior could be simply be explained by him having a tough time recently, or some other temporary stressor.

Logan didn't know _ why, _as he was fairly certain the Side got enough sleep (it would be didficult to act so energetic if wasn't) but nevertheless, he seemed...tired.

Logan didn't know _ what _was bothering Roman, as it could be many things, but, he cared about the other Side, a lot. More than other Sides, almost. A great deal of Logan's fucks were given towards Roman, as Virgil had so eloquently put it.

That is, to say, that Logan may, or may not, have what would commonly be called a 'crush' on the creative Side.

...It was embarrassing, but, if Logan was honest with himself, he had more than a crush on Roman. He didn't know what came after a crush, aside from the obvious answer of love, but he wouldn't go _ that _far, he was only just now accepting that he had feelings, and he wasn't certain he knew Roman well enough for that. But, he still liked Roman a lot. Therefore, he was concerned about his well being….quite immensely so.

You see, when Logan said that he was decent at reading people, he meant it. He knew what to look for in people, knew what the signs and tells were (though he often missed them, leading to guilt of not noticing). So, when he first started to notice that Roman was starting to appear tired, he started to pay more attention to him. 

And oh boy, did Logan notice a lot. 

The first thing he noticed upon further inspection was how Roman seemed to shy away from physical contact. Everytime physical contact was initiated by another Side, he would flinch, which troubled Logan deeply. After further studies, Logan deduced that in fact, Roman was not declined from physical contact for any reason (such as quests in the Imagination, though that could play a part), but he had a starvation towards it. He was touch starved, and that was not a good thing in the slightest. 

It broke Logan's heart, knowing that his crush (he felt juvenile thinking that to himself, but he didn't know a better term) was hurting that way, but as he noticed that Roman was touch starved, he started to notice more, and more, and more. And he didn't like what he found.

During brainstorming sessions, whenever Roman brought up ideas, when at first he was always so excited to share, years ago, nowadays he seemed...reluctant, and when they shot his ideas down for one reason or another, he seemed resigned, as if had expected nothing less. And obviously, Logan couldn't have that, so he started to pay more attention to how Roman appeared to be feeling during these brainstorming sessions, and tried to soften his criticisms. 

It was during one of these brainstorming sessions, when they had found a suitable idea, that Logan came to the most alarming conclusion. 

A conclusion that broke his heart more than any of the other things he had discovered by choosing to pay the slightest bit of attention, by choosing to take look deeper, even if only for a second. 

A conclusion that he cursed himself for not noticing sooner.

  
  



	3. and i start to wonder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Rescue Me by OneDirection

Something was afoot in the Mindscape. That was all he and Patton knew, Virgil thought to himself as he watched Patton quietly pull out the materials to make sugar cookies, not wanting to wake anyone up at three in the morning (though unbeknownst to them, not a single Side was asleep at that time).

"I'm really worried, Pat," Virgil confessed from his perch on the countertop. And it was true. All he and Patton really knew was that _ something _ was off with _ someone, _and that was about it.

"I am too," Patton admitted, starting work on the cookies. "But there's not much we can do, as much as we'd like to. We just have to wait."

"But what if it's really bad?" Virgil blurted. "What if us not saying anything just makes them feel worse? Or what if we do say something and they just retreat into their shell more or-"

"Virgil," Patton interrupted gently, placing his hands on his hips, which looked hilarious with the extremely frilly and bright pink apron Remus had gotten him and Patton had kept because it wasn't unusable, and a gift was a gift. 

Virgil let out a sigh, blowing his bangs to the side. "I know, I know. It's just...I'm worried," he said lamely. 

"That's okay," Patton assured. "But there's no need to work yourself up over something we don't have control of. Now, would you like to help me make these cookies?"

Virgil nodded, sliding off the counter. Half an hour later, the cookie mix had been made and the oven was humming quietly. 

Virgil picked at the hem of his jacket sleeve, staring at the warm glow of the oven light.

"Who do you think it is?" Virgil asked, after the silence grew. "I mean, it's neither of us, so…"

Patton hummed. "Well, I'm not actually too sure. It could very well be anyone."

Virgil frowned, anxiously fidgeting with his jacket string. 

"Oh, sorry," Patton apologized, giving him a sheepish smile, "That probably wasn't very helpful."

Virgil allowed himself a laugh, smiling back at Patton. "It's fine," he said. 

"That's good."

"...So," Virgil began, "How have you been recently," he asked awkwardly. 

"I-" Patton cut himself off, glancing down at the floor. "Not the best," he answered honestly. "But I've been making sure to take care of myself and deal with it better."

Virgil had noticed. Some days Patton would be more quiet, or less cheery, but he wouldn't try to lie. He wouldn't necessarily say what was wrong, but he wasn't denying that something was wrong either, which Virgil counted as a win.

"I'm glad," Virgil said, giving Patton a smile. "I'm proud of you, Pop-star."

A grin grew on Patton's face.

Their moment, however, was interrupted by the sound of beeping.

"Done already?" Virgil asked as Patton pulled the oven open. The moral side shrugged, pulling on oven mitts and setting the cookie pan on the counter. 

"Doesn't that smell amazing?" Patton asked.

"Mhm," Virgil agreed. 

"Now we can start on the frosting!" Patton exclaimed, grinning.

Virgil shushed him. "Don't want to wake anyone up, remember?"

Patton gave him an apologetic smile, and soon they were off to make the frosting. Virgil was thoroughly distracted from his anxious thoughts as they worked, giggling at Patton's mishaps and how ridiculous he looked with a frosting mustache. 

Eventually, they were done, and the cookies were cooled enough to be frosted. They did so with little effort, and after consuming far too many cookies than was probably healthy, they put the rest of the cookies away and bid their goodbyes.

It was extremely late by the time Virgil crawled in bed, and Logan would no doubt be disappointed, but Virgil didn't care. He had been distracted from the nagging of _ someone _being extremely anxious that wasn't him in the back of his mind for just a little while, and he was extremely grateful. 

It would back by the time he woke up, along with his own worry and concern for whoever was feeling this way, but for now, he could rest easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is turning out to be longer than expected, so the comfort might take a bit to arrive...it will arrive, tho, i promise.


	4. where they spin lies into fairy dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone who commented about the suspense last chapter i regret to inform you that there will continue to be suspense
> 
> this is a much longer chapter as a treat for all the suspense
> 
> chapter title from Sick Boy by The Chainsmokers

* * *

Patton hummed to himself cheerfully as he scrubbed at the dish in his hand. He knew they had a dishwasher, but there was something about handwashing dishes that calmed him down. There was something about cleaning in general that calmed him down. He wasn't a neat freak or a germaphobe (that was obvious by one look at his room), but he still liked to clean. 

Now, though, he was using it as a distraction from thinking too much about who was struggling. It could be anyone, and Patton didn't like to think about his friends suffering. 

"Greetings, Padre!" a voice greeted him, starting him out of his thoughts.

"Hey Roman!" Patton greeted, giving Roman a warm smile.

"You don't mind if I sneak by you to get a glass of water, do you?" Roman inquired, moving from his previous position at the bottom of the stairs over to the island.

"Nope!" Patton said, grinning. Talking to Roman always made him feel better. As Roman slipped behind him to grab a glass, the smile fell from his face, replaced with a frown. Could Roman be the one he and Virgil were feeling? But he always seemed so happy...then again, so had Patton, and he wasn't happy at the time..

"Salutations," Logan's greeting made him jump, nearly drop the plate he was holding.

"Man, is there a party going on here?" he joked nervously, casting a furtive glance at Logan as he finished washing the dishes. Logan always seemed so unconcerned all the time, and was denying that he had feelings, so it could very well be him too!

Looking up, he noticed Logan giving him a concerned look. "You seem jumpy today, Patton," he said, "Is there a reason for that?"

Patton shook his head, giving Logan a reassuring smile. "Nothing major," he assured, "Just spent a little too much time in Virgil's corner helping him pack is all!." The lie slipped off his tongue easily, and he felt a stab of guilt at his own hypocrisy. Maybe it was Deceit who was suffering, crushed with every rejection of his ideas. Or maybe it was Remus, feeling unwanted because he was forced out every time he popped up, even if he hadn't done anything. Heck, it could both of them, feeling worthless because nobody listened to their contributions. 

"We can tell," Roman said, jolting him back to reality. He was giving him a concerned and searching look. "Are you sure that's all that's bothering you?"

"Certain," Patton said, giving them a shaky smile. Roman frowned, and he and Logan exchanged glances, but said nothing. Patton did notice Logan's gaze linger on Roman after he looked away, gaze sharp with-

"Would you like help putting the dishes away, Patton?" Roman asked, stopping Patton from noting what Logan had been feeling. Patton nodded, giving him a grateful smile, but in the back of his mind he couldn't help but note how convenient his timing was.

"That'd be great, Roman." Roman grinned at him, sliding on apparently socked feet across the tile floor of the kitchen and to Patton's left.

"I'm a little teacup…" Roman began singing as he grabbed cups and placed them in the cupboard. Patton giggled, taking some plates and putting them away. With Roman's help, the dishes were away in no time. It was a bit difficult with Logan moving in between them to make himself a coffee for the afternoon, but they managed.

"Thank you for your help, Roman!" Patton said gratefully. He had been so worked up, he might have dropped a plate or something. Plus, it was faster than doing it on his own.

"Not a problem, Patton!" Roman exclaimed. "I'm afraid I must make my departure. Many grand ideas await me!" he said with a flourish. 

"Okay, bye Roman!" Patton said, smiling. Roman smiled back. Once again, when his back turned the smile faded into a concerned frown. Could it be Roman? Logan? Deceit? Remus? Was it Virgil and he was just trying to take a roundabout way to get help? 

Patton shook his head to clear his thoughts, pretending not to notice Logan's calculating gaze as he cleaned up the top of the island.

"I better get going too," he said. Logan hummed in response, but said nothing. Patton hung around awkwardly for a moment, expecting him to say something. After it became clear he wasn't, Patton quickly made his way to his room, feeling embarrassed, and stressed. He couldn't stop himself from thinking. Social isolation was a sign of depression, right? But that was just one conversation, and besides, some people surrounded themselves with people more than usual when they were depressed. Besides, how did he know it wasn't everyone in the Mindscape, and that was why he was noticing it.

Patton was startled out of his thoughts when he bumped into Deceit, literally.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Patton exclaimed. "I should have watched where I was going."

"It's fine," Deceit said, smoothing out his clothes. "I wanted to talk to you, actually."

“You did?” Patton asked, confusion coloring his voice. What did Deceit want to talk to him about? They hadn't had any major disagreements with him recently, as far as he was aware, so what was this all about?

“I did,” Deceit confirmed. “Would you be privy to having a discussion with me? Somewhere more private, perhaps?”

Patton gave him a suspicious look, but found nothing to imply an ulterior motive. “Sure,” he agreed. “Do you have a place in mind, or?”

“I was thinking the Imagination,” Deceit said. His lips twitched downward slightly as he said that, and Pattton felt his posture straighten and his eyes narrow. What about the Imagination was making him so off?

“Roman’s side, yeah?” Patton asked lightly.

Deceit nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Shall we head there now?”

Patton shrugged, hoping dearly that he wasn’t about to get murdered. That would be unfortunate, and would certainly be a cause of great distress to everyone. “I have nothing better to do right now, so I might as well.”

Deceit’s eyes flickered in surprise at that, though Patton wasn’t sure which part of his statement had shocked him. Patton held out an arm. “Shall we?” he asked. Deceit blinked at him, gingerly wrapping a hand around his forearm. Patton sunk them down into Roman’s side of the Imagination, where the low afternoon sun warmed their skin. A cool breeze fluttered by, brushing Patton’s bangs up gently. They were currently in a forest, a soft pine path beneath their feet. A river rolled past to their left, and birdsong echoed from all around.

“This is certainly picture perfect,” Deceit muttered, letting go of his arm.

“It is,” Patton agreed, “But I like it.” And he did. Every aspect of Roman’s side of the Imagination was the stuff of beauty, and he loved to explore it whenever Roman would take him.

“I suppose it _ is _quite stunning, in its own right. Certainly better than Remus’s side,” Deceit shuddered.

Patton frowned at him. “You’ve been awfully honest during this interaction,” he said, peering at his face for a reaction. Deceit stiffened, before his shoulders slumped and he let out a quiet sigh. Patton frowned at his sudden shift in demeanor.

“Deceit?” he asked, concerned.

“I have been honest,” he said, looking up from the floor to meet his eyes. “And I am aware that is...unusual for me, but your willingness to come here with _ me _of all people, no questions asked, is also unusual.”

Patton shifted his weight, glancing down at the pine below for a second. “I...I guess we’re just an unusual pair, aren’t we?” he tried for a joke. Deceit’s lips quirked into a small smile.

“I suppose we are,” he agreed quietly. He straightened his posture. “But I think we both know that’s not why I’m here.”

“Of course not,” Patton replied instantly. “You’re not the type of person to go to people you don’t like for idle chit chat. You want something.” It’s not a question. Nor was it an accusation. It was a statement because despite how they argued, they knew each other.

Deceit blinked at him, seeming impressed. “I do. Well, I’m more of a, say, messenger man in this situation.”

Patton’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Remus was wanting to tell you lot something, but his attemps thus far have failed and he felt that I would have more success in ah, say, making conversation.

Patton shifted guilty. Remus _ had _been visiting more recently, and he had seemed to want to say something…

“Sorry,” he apologized, not knowing what else to say.

“What’s done is done,” Deceit said.

“What did he want to say?” Patton asked hesitantly, feeling dread curl in his stomach. Something told him what Remus wanted to say wasn’t good.

Deceit took a deep breath. “Well, what he wanted to say..” Deceit paused, and Patton’s breath hitched as Deceit prepared himself for what he was about to say next.

“It was about Roman.”


	5. id give you my lungs so you could breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the suspense continues as we take a peek into the conversation deceit and remus had
> 
> dont worry, chapter seven will be from romans perspective
> 
> chapter title from Brother by Kodaline

Remus' brother was suffering, and there was nothing he could do about it, because his brother always chased him away every time he tried to bring it up like the stubborn idiot he had always been.

And Remus _ knew, _he knew for certain he was suffering. He could feel the negative emotions slipping through the massive wall he had thrown up in an attempt to get rid of their mental connection, slipping through the cracks that appeared the longer he suffered silently. 

Remus couldn't very well go to the other Sides, they would get rid of him in an instant, and they didn't see how badly he was _ hurting. _Remus didn't know the full extent but even with just the tidbits he could gather, he wasn't having a good time.

It made him mad, because the 'Light Sides' always seemed to think they were so good and better than the 'Dark Sides' and that they cared more, but if they cared more wouldn't they care to pay attention?

Mental health was one of the few things Remus took dead seriously, and the fact that this had been going on for so long broke his heart and pissed him off. Because they should care just as much as he did, because if he was _ bad _ then they, who were _ good, _should care as well, and they should have the incentive not not take an "I'm fine" for granted!

Remus sighed aggressively through his teeth, running a hand through his hair and tangling his fingers into it, starting to pace. Why were they so stupid? They called him disgusting and maybe he was but sometimes he was actually trying to say something important! And that was probably because they didn't know how to _ listen, _how to actually talk about their problems, only how to fight and compromise.

Remus picked his Morningstar off of the ground, dragging it behind him as he paced, feeling anger wash over him. It didn't help that in the far recesses of his mind, hatred was slipping to him from Roman, unconsciously feeding his anger. 

He wanted to make them understand what they were doing, wanted to drag them by the hair and tie them down and show them what their idiocy had down, show them the marks left on skin and force them to know how it felt, to use his powers to show them how it felt to suffer and slice them up one by one-

Remus tossed his Morningstar with a distorted scream of rage, vision turning red. He grabbed the metal bat by his bed and smashed to bedpost, dropping it to the floor with a thud when he realized what he'd done, what he'd been thinking. 

Remus sunk to his knees, burying his face into his hands. Fuck, he was such a horrible person, he shouldn't do that to them, that was horrible, he was so _ bad. _ He was just like the others called, evil and bad bad badbad-

"Remus?" a voice cut through his internal rambling, and Remus jerked his head up in surprise. Deceit stood in front of him, dressed in his pajamas, a yellow t-shirt with a sunflower on it and black sweatpants. His eyes flickered around Remus' room in a sort of shock, eyeing the broken parts of his bedpost and the scratch marks in the wooden floor warily.

"Oh, hey Dee-Dee!" Remus said with an energy he didn't feel, bouncing to his feet and forcing a grin. "Didn't see you there. Why're you doing here? A creature from the Imagination sneak in and getcha?"

"No," Deceit replied distractedly. "I'm up because of you."

Remus shifted guilty. "Why?" he asked, still grinning and pretending and not to notice the marks on the floor and the scattered broken post.

"You threw your mace against your wall, presumably. And you smashed your bedpost. Screamed, too…"

Remus deflated like a balloon, manic energy escaping in the rush of a small sigh. "It's a Morningstar," he muttered, staring at the floor.

"Remus." Deceit's voice was commanding and gentle and entirely unlike his usual self. "What's wrong?"

"It's those other Sides!" Remus bursted, feeling an intense wave of anger overcome him once more. "They think that they're so much better that they can just waltz around and pretend like nobody else has feelings!" he shouted. His hands curled into fists and before he knew it he'd punched a dent into his wall. He breathed heavily for a few breaths, hyper aware of Deceit's presence behind him.

"Remus," Deceit said carefully. He'd said his name a lot in the past minute, Remus noted. "I...I'm sorry that you're feeling that way, but you know that they won't accept us."

Remus let his hand fall to his side. "That's not what this is about," he said flatly, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Then what is it about?" Deceit asked, sounding much more concerned than Remus had thought he would be.

"My brother," Remus answered miserably. "He feels like shit, I can tell but every time I try to talk to him or someone else they push me away and I wish they would just hear me out!" Remus exclaimed, voice getting more passionate and wobbly with every word. He turned around, facing Deceit, who had a shocked expression on his face. 

"You...how can you-"

"Our bond," Remus answered. He didn't need to explain it to Deceit. He knew that he was smart enough to figure out what he meant. Casting his mind out, he hit the same airtight wall that had been there for years, blocking him and Roman from and mental interaction, except now there were tiny cracks where hatred and guilt and sadness and longing slipped through like a slow dripping poison, seeping into his consciousness as he went closer to inspect it. His face twisted, and he quickly pulled away, feeling overwhelmed and antsy. He didn't notice his breathing had quickened until Deceit was in front of him, placing a hand on his cheek.

"Four, seven, eight," he reminded, and Remus drew in a shuddering breath, trying his best to follow along. 

"I can feel how he's feeling," he explained after a minute. "It goes into my emotions sometimes and makes me what he's feeling."

"And what he's feeling..?" Deceit prompted.

"It's not good."

Deceit stared at him for a moment, before gently leading him to his bed, snapping the sheets clean. Remus gratefully collapsed on his bed, staring up at his cracked ceiling.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered guilty. "He's my brother and I...I care about him and I just wish...I wish I could help him."

"I wish I could say that I knew what to do, but I don't," Deceit said bluntly. He picked at the loose threads at the hem of his shirt, a nervous tic he had picked up from Virgil. "I could try to talk to them, seeing as they usually hear me out before kicking me out."

Remus sat up quickly. "You'd talk to them for me?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 

"Of course," Deceit said, blinking at him.

"But I thought you hated them?" Remus wondered. 

"I don't," Deceit snapped. His shoulders stiffened, and Remus kept quiet. Though he might have pressed had it been any other Side, this was Deceit. He wouldn't do that to him.

Deceit let out a slow sigh. "I don't hate them. We just...disagree on nearly anything. I'm not heartless," he added, almost as if he was talking to himself. "And, besides, you're my friend and Roman is your brother. At the very least, I want to see _ him _happy."

"So you'll talk to them?" Remus asked, hope bubbling in his chest. He was so stupid, not asking Deceit for help with this but better late than never, or whatever the saying was.

Deceit sighed dramatically, lips twitching into a small smile. "I suppose."

"Yay!" Remus cheered, cheeks splitting into a massive grin. He pulled Deceit into a tight hug, pressing their heads together. Deceit hissed at him, and Remus let him go a moment later, not wanting to get bit again (it was painful, trust him). "Thank you," he said sincerely, in a tone that he hoped conveyed just how grateful he was.

"Not a problem," Deceit said, giving him a quick smile before sinking out 

Remus grinned. Finally, his brother would be getting the help he needed. 

Well, provided the 'Light Sides' actually did anything about it.


	6. my heart, it will be open, and ill try to give it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter chapter than usual, but the next one, will be much much longer than usual as we check back up on roman and see how hes doing.
> 
> chapter title form Water Fountain by Alec Benjamin

Patton froze. “About Roman?” he asked shakily. His heart pounded in his chest, a wave of anxiety hitting him. Was it Roman who he was feeling? No, it couldn’t be...but it very could, he realized. It very well could be because in all his years he had never once seen Roman cry or admit that he was feeling down. He couldn't be that happy all the time. No one could. Patton himself hadn’t always been that happy.

Patton swallowed, throat feeling dry. “What about Roman?”

Deceit let out a troubled sigh. “He..he isn’t feeling well.”

“He’s sick?” Patton asked, playing dumb and hoping desperately that he was wrong and Roman wasn’t hurting so much.

Deciet’s gaze cut through him no. “No. Not feeling well as in depressed.”

Patton’s blood stopped. “Depressed?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

“That’s what I gathered from what Remus told me,” Deceit shrugged. “If you want to know more, you can talk to him.”

“How does he know?” Patton found himself demanding because no, Roman couldn’t be depressed but it made so much _ sense. _Because he had never once seen Roman cry, or admit he was feeling down.

"That's not my information to disclose," Deceit said, inspecting his nails (though they were hidden by his gloves). He heaved a sigh. "I suppose, if you are dying to know how, you can...oh, I don't know, ask Remus yourself?"

"You're not gonna tell me? How do I know you're not lying?" Patton asked frantically because even if he was correct how did he know he could trust Remus? What if this was a plot to get him killed? What if Deceit was deceiving him?

"You won't," Deceit responded. "I am Deceit. The fact that we've gone this far with you believing every word that comes out of my mouth, which is highly unlike any of you _ 'Light' _Sides, is already groundbreaking, so why not go a little further and believe me about this? Is it because Remus is my source?"

Patton hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth. It _ was _because his source was Remus and that he was so skeptical, but to actually admit that…

"...No," he answered eventually. 

Deceit barked out a laugh. "Oh, don't lie to me Patton. You know I can tell when you do."

Patton stared at the ground, guilt crawling in his chest. 

"Look," Deceit began, "You can believe me, or you can not believe, and for most circumstances I wouldn't care either way, but this time, I do." Patton looked up at that to see Deceit with a grim expression on his face, staring Patton directly in the eyes. "Roman is hurting, and has been for a while now. I've had my suspicions, and last night, Remus confirmed them."

"You've had your suspicions?" Patton asked, not daring to break eye contact. 

"Of course," Deceit responded immediately. "When was the last time you saw him act even slightly upset?"

"Never, aside from being angry," Patton mumbled, finally breaking eye contact to stare at the river beside them.

"What?" Deceit asked sharply.

"I've never seen him act upset beyond anger," Patton repeated.

Deceit let out a slow exhale of breath, hand running over his hat. "That's...that's not good."

"I know," Patton whispered, hunching in on himself. "I should have seen it sooner. The signs are all there…"

"You should have," Deceit agreed. "But what's done is done. What matters now is that you do something about it."

Patton lifted his head in surprise. "You're not going to help?"

Deceit hesitated for a moment. "No," he answered, "I'm not. I would love to, but I doubt I'd be welcomed. 

"No, you would," Patton insisted, "You and Remus both would. I would never have thought that Roman was hurting so bad if you hadn't told me what Remus told you, and you had your suspicions yourself. You noticed what we all failed to and that is invaluable," he said seriously. 

Deceit blinked at him, eyes widening slightly. "You...you seriously mean to tell me that all I had to do to get accepted was tell you Roman was hurting?"

"Not entirely, I've been meaning to talk to you for a while," Patton said, "this just...hurried it along, I guess."

"Huh." Deceit shook his head. "Whatever, moving on from...that, what are you going to do about Roman?"

"I'm not sure," Patton confessed. "He's off in the Imagination today, and there's a brainstorming session in a few days, so I'll probably bring it up then."

Deceit nodded. "Good. I don't want him to suffer any longer than he has to."

Patton chose to ignore how Deceit said 'I'. "Do you have any advice?"

"Don't believe him. He will say he is fine, and he will make excuses, and he will be lying."

"Oh!" Patton exclaimed, "Maybe when does that, you can show up and prove that he's lying!"

Deceit nodded in approval. "That could work, yes." He glanced down at his wrist, which was adorned with a golden watch. "I should get going soon."

"Okay," Patton said. "Hey, thanks for telling me about Roman," he said sincerely.

Deceit waved a hand. "Oh, don't thank me. Thank Remus."

And with that, he sunk out, leaving Patton alone by the river, troubled thoughts swirling in his head.

How could they have been so blind?


	7. after an hour it sounds like complaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Karma by AJR (which is the ultimate roman angst song tbh)

Roman stared up at his ceiling, unblinking. He studied the faded shapes of color splashed across it, forming creatures of fantasy and knights bravely defeating them.

He had been such a child back then, obsessed with the heroes of legend, not realizing the cruel truth of reality that bad things happened to good people and no amount of acting like a prince would make him deserving of love and praise. 

It was sort of funny, in a sick and twisted way. Roman had always strived to be a hero, and heros never got happy endings. They trudged along, alone, weighed down by the burden of responsibility until they finally crumbled and were replaced by a new, better hero who would save the day.

Well, Roman had got his wish. He was slowly crumbling, on the inside, because he wanted to stay as long as he could until the others realized that he was useless to them and threw him out.

Speaking of the others…

"Roman!" Patton called cheerfully, knocking on his door. "Dinners ready!"

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. Today was not a good day. Most days weren't, but he could barely summon the energy to get up and work on ideas, let alone do anything. It was one of those days where he lacked the energy to get out of bed and wanted to hide under the covers from his responsibilities and the overwhelming pressure of holding up a happy facade.

"I'll be down in a few minutes!" Roman shouted, forcing a happy tone. When he could no longer hear Patton's footsteps he sighed, flinging an arm over his eyes. He didn't have the energy to act happy, and was so drained that he could barely bring himself to reply to Patton, so he would absolutely not be able to hold a conversation like usual. 

Sighing, Roman slowly sat up, brushing the wrinkles out of his suit. He sat there for a few seconds, fighting against the urge to let himself flop back down and get some much needed rest, but he couldn't. So he forced himself to stand and slowly made his way to his door, pausing as he turned the knob to take a steadying breath.

He swung the door open, and then promptly shut it again, leaning against it and burying his face into his hands as his throat tightened. 

Fuck, he couldn't do this. He couldn't force himself to act happy and he couldn't let them know how he was feeling. He couldn't go down there and act happy when he _ wasn't. _

Roman let his arms fall, hands balling at his side as he rested his head back, staring up at the ceiling as a few tears spilled over. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, shoulders hunching as he started to tremble. _ Oh my god, I can't do this. _ Roman slowly slid down, knees to his chest as his door pressed painfully against his back. _ I can't do this, I can't, I can't- _

Roman bit his bottom lip to stop it from trembling, choking down a sob. He had to go down there, he had told Patton he would be down there, he couldn't flake. He had to show up, even if he felt like he was about to burst into tears. He had to go. 

Roman lifted his head from his hands, leaning it against the door once again. He wasn't ready for this. He never would be. But he had no choice. 

Roman slowly stood, pulling the door open once more. Walking by the door was Virgil, hood flipped up, headphones over his ears and hands firmly jammed into his pockets. He gave Roman a small nod when they made eye contact and Roman gave him a smile that he hoped didn't look too fake. It seemed to work, as Virgil continued along.

Roman let the smile fall, following behind him silently. It was _ fair _that Virgil got to be quiet and not interact with anyone at mealtimes, but the others constantly prodded him with small talk like they thought he didn't have days where talking to people took too much energy as well.

It was unfair, but it was entirely his fault. He could tell them that sometimes everything was too much, and he just wanted to be there and not be expected to participate, but he didn't. Because admitting that something was wrong was terrifying. 

Roman forced the smile back on his face as he reached the bottom of the stairs, calling out a greeting. Patton and Logan were already seated, and Patton gave him a smile as he made his way towards them. 

"Hi, Roman!" he said, "I made pasta!"

Roman blinked, pleasantly surprised. Patton had, in fact, made pasta.

"How wonderfully kind of you," Roman told him, sliding into his seat. And it was. It had certainly made this experience a bit better, considering he already wanted to die sitting in front of them with their expecting faces as if they were using him as a constant to ground themselves in their troubles, as if Roman wasn't constantly spinning in a whirlpool of uncertainty. 

"Thanks," Virgil mumbled to them, pulling his headphones onto his shoulders as he sat down.

"How have your ideas been coming along, Roman?" Logan asked, looking up from the book he had been reading and studying him intently.

Roman stiffened slightly, forcing a smile so they wouldn't notice his sudden spike of panic.. "Oh, you know," he waved his fork, a nervous laugh escaping him, "They're coming along quite well, I'd say."

Logan stared at him a moment longer before nodding. "That is good," he said.

Roman's smile became slightly strained, and he stared down at his pasta. There was an awkward silence after that and Roman felt like sinking into the floor and never showing his face again, only the sound of their forks scraping against their plates filling the otherwise empty air.

Patton cleared his throat after a while, when the silence had become nearly unbearable. "So, how have all of you been?" he asked, giving them an awkward smile.

"Okay," Virgil responded, fidgeting with the strings of his jacket. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and he was staring down at the floor, not meeting their eyes, and Roman couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. Had something been bothering him recently? _ Of course, _ he immediately realized, _ I've been taking my issues out on him more and more and he doesn't deserve it. _

"I have been adequate," Logan said, jolting Roman out of his thoughts as he realized it was his turn to say how he was feeling. 

"I have been doing wondrously!" Roman exclaimed, "Ideas have just been coming out of nowhere!"

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Of course you're doing okay," he muttered, but there was a small relieved smile on his face for a reason Roman couldn't place, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Patton and Logan, however, seemed unconvinced, and Roman's heart jolted. Did they suspect something? Had he not acted like he normally did?

Patton and Logan said nothing, and Roman breathed a quiet sigh of relief. 

"How have you been, Padre?" Roman said, hoping his voice the fact that he was fighting off a panic attack because they _ knew. _ There was no other reason for them to not believe him, they had to know _ something. _And that was terrifying. Because if they knew then they would surely get rid of him because they didn't want to deal with him.

"I've been good," Patton replied. "I talked to Deceit earlier," he said, giving Roman a glance that made his stomach twist and the pasta left on his plate seem entirely unappetizing. 

"Oh?" Roman said, feigning interest when he really felt like bursting into tears.

"I was unaware you two spoke very often," Logan commented, placing a bookmark in his book and giving Patton his full attention. 

"We don't," Patton corrected, "It was just a one off thing."

"Did he ask you for a bathing rock?" Virgil joked quietly, a hesitant grin on his face.

Roman let out a laugh that he hoped wasn't as strangled as it sounded to him. "With a heat lamp, too."

Patton narrowed his eyes at them, but nothing in his voice changed as he said, "No, no, he didn't. He actually was talking to me about some things I...hadn't thought of before." Patton kept his eyes carefully trained to his plate at that, and Roman was surprised he didn't burst into tears then and there. Patton _ knew. _And he knew because Deceit knew, but how did Deceit know? He couldn't- unless…

"He also said that Remus was wanting to talk to you, Logan," Patton continued, as if he wasn't making Roman feel like he was going to explode more and more with every second he sat there.

"Did he now?" Logan asked disbelievingly.

"He doesn't want to kill him, right?" Virgil asked, tone light but eyes betraying his true worry.

Patton shook his head. "No, Deceit said he just wanted to see if he could talk to him about some things." Patton shrugged helplessly. "He didn't say what, but _ talk _was empathized, so I think we're okay."

Logan hummed thoughtfully. "I'll have to see what he wants later, then."

"Be careful," Virgil warned lowly, so quietly that Roman was sure only he had heard it, and he felt like screaming. 

The link between him and Remus, the one he had tried so hard to get rid of, something _ had _ to have slipped through, and then he told Deceit who told Patton, there was no other explanation. And that meant that Roman had _ failed, _ meant he had somehow managed to fail at the thing he had been doing for _ years, _proving that he was even more of a failure than he had thought.

"Well, this has been wonderful," Roman started suddenly and quickly after the crushing realization had become too much to bear and he was seconds away from tears, "But I'm afraid I must depart. I'm brimming with ideas, you see, and I must release them into the world!" he exclaimed, internally cursing himself. That sounded so dumb. Virgil, Logan, and Patton exchanged startled glances with one another, and Roman bit down on his tongue to stop a sob from escaping. 

"Make sure you have your ideas for the brainstorming session ready," Logan reminded him.

"But of course," Roman replied, not bothering to walk back to his room and instead sunk out with a flourish, missing the look that Patton and Logan exchanged. 

When he rose up, he immediately collapsed onto his bed, burying his face into his comforter as tears slid down his face. Oh, _ god, _ they _ knew. _They had too, they had too, there was no other reason for them to act that way.

But...maybe it was something else. Maybe it was about how Thomas doing something selfish for himself wasn't so bad, or…

Roman sobbed into his pillow, curling himself into a tight ball.

Oh, who was he kidding? Of _ course _they knew, he couldn't just make up excuses for their behavior because there was one reason, clear as day.

Roman sighed heavily, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling once again, chest tightening. Tears still steamed down his face, but he refused to let another sob escape for such a stupid reason as people _ knowing things. _If they actually cared they'd have done something about it, and they hadn't. Besides, it wasn't like they had cared in the first place, why would this make a difference?

"Fuck," Roman breathed softly to himself. He was so pathetic, and to make matters worse, the brainstorming session was in just two days.

Roman wasn't ready for the brainstorming session in the slightest. Not only did Patton probably know (and oh god was the terrifying), all of his ideas he had come up with were terrible, and he barely had any in the first place, which would just make them hate him even more than knowing about his issues would.

With a sigh, Roman snapped himself into his pajamas, too tired and worked up to actually change himself, and crawled under his covers, clicking his lamp off and bathing the room in darkness. He shoved his face into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. As much as wished his secrets were still trapped in the little bottle he had shoved them into along with all of his negative emotions, the fact of the matter was that they knew. He didn't know how much or what, but it had to be _ something, _ there had to be a reason for why they were acting so fishy.

There was nothing he could do about, though, and he hated it. He hated feeling so helpless and worthless, so, so much.

He'd have to sleep on his ideas, and work one them wherever he woke up. He would have enough time to do _ something, _would have the excuse of work to hide away and not have to face them. He already had ideas to give, they just weren't...good.

There was nothing he could do about now, though, as he could feel the pull of unconsciousness, and soon, despite his infamous insomnisa, he was asleep.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Roman shot awake with a scream, choking on a sob as tears streamed down his face. His body was covered in a cold sweat as he shook, heart slamming in his chest. Another nightmare, and he didn't even remember it.

Terror flooded his veins, and Roman shoved his face into his arms, pulling his knees to his chest. His entire body trembled as fear raced through him, breath coming in short gasps. Roman rocked himself back and forth, fighting to control his breathing. 

Roman sobbed quietly, nails digging sharp crescents into his arms. He was so pathetic, it was just a dream, there was nothing even there!

That didn't stop the fear, and Roman clicked his lamp on with a shaky hand, finally managing to control his breathing, a sigh of relief escaping him as soft light filled the room, banishing the darkness. Roman scrubbed at his face, removing all of the leftover tears and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. There was no way he was going to fall asleep, and the fact that he had crashed so quickly was extremely surprising, as he usually never fell asleep that fast.

He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, he thought, shoving his glasses on and making his way over to his desk. He would just have more time to work on his ideas than originally anticipated. 

(And more time to worry about the knowledge the others had gained, but he didn't want to think about that right now.)

Sliding into his chair, Roman flipped his notebook open. He looked over the ideas he had written, a scowl forming across his face. They were all so _ terrible _, who did he think he was? The others would hate these, there was no way they wouldn't. 

He didn't have enough to present, though, so he had to push through. He had to have _ something, _even if the ideas were so bad he wanted to vomit, he had to have the required amount done. Logan wouldn't be so disappointed if he at least met the requirements for how many, right?

But the problem was that Roman couldn't think of _ anything. _The only original thing he could think of that hadn't already written down or suggested before was an idea for a Sanders Sides episode. The others were especially picky when it came to ideas for those. 

Besides, did he even want to suggest it? The topic was...very close to home with Roman, and if he brought it up, they would suspect even more…

He didn't have a choice, did he? They _ needed _to make another Sanders Sides episode, and this was the only thing he could come up with.

Roman paused, hand hovering over the paper, pencil centimeters from touching the page. Did he _ really _want to do this? If they figured it out…

Roman sighed, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he pressed pencil to paper and prayed that it would go right.


End file.
